


Share the Weight

by nothlits



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Apologies, Coping with trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Past Abuse, hard conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothlits/pseuds/nothlits
Summary: Yuuki Mishima makes a hard decision, one he's wrestled with for a long time — the decision to show his cowardly face and apologize to a still bed-bound Shiho.
Relationships: Mishima Yuuki & Takamaki Ann, Mishima Yuuki/Suzui Shiho
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Share the Weight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arcanalalune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanalalune/gifts).



> this was written as a birthday present for my wonderful boyfriend who adores mishima and shiho with his entire being. happy birthday bwue!
> 
> _i'll be here until you're okay  
>  let your words release your pain  
>  you and i will [share the weight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIhU8wBjtsc)  
>  growing stronger day by day_

Mishima felt like a coward most of the time. He had for most of his life, and despite his newly-found strength inspired by the Phantom Thieves, some things were slow to change. Sure, he could stand up to a bully now, but confronting his own personal failings was… Well… He hadn’t quite gotten there yet. _Soon,_ he thought. Then, _Maybe._

Shiho Suzui sat like a weight anchored in a corner of his mind, quiet but ever-present. Most days, he thought of her at least in passing. He’d walk by the gym where they’d spent practices together, and a sense of fondness, and then deeper sadness, would wash over him in waves. He was still _here_ to walk by the gym. Was Shiho even walking at all? He’d seen her lying on the ground that day, legs twisted at unnatural angles. Some quick research online told him that some people never recovered from that. Asking Takamaki seemed cruel, so he didn’t. He hoped she was okay, really, but he knew there was an even bigger chance she wasn’t.

Everyone talked for a long time, until they didn’t. New gossip popped up. There was some other scandal. Life moved on. But Shiho was still sitting in that hospital bed, and now no one even seemed to remember what happened to her. No one mentioned Kamoshida anymore, as if he’d never made the volleyball team his personal slaves. Once the bruises faded, it was like everyone just forgot. Somehow, that was even more painful than the constant reminders. Real people had suffered. Real people had almost died. He couldn’t take the silence anymore. It was deafening.

One day, everything just overpowered him — everyone else’s eagerness to move on, his own uselessness, the sitting and wondering and not knowing — and he resolved that he would finally do something, anything. He couldn’t just wait around and hope his guilt would stop eating at him. He had apologies to make. Shiho deserved at least that, he decided. She deserved _more,_ but he didn’t know what _more_ was. A redo of everything? He couldn’t time travel back and take her place. If he could, he would have by now, a thousand times over. Again and again, he’d wished it was him who took the beating that day, all so Shiho got one more day of peace. Maybe it would have been enough. But all he could do now was apologize and hope Shiho would even accept it. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

He thought he should bring her a gift. Her favorite snacks crossed his mind, the ones he always saw her eating after practice or on the rare occasion they had lunch together with the rest of the team. She loved this one flavor of rice cakes from the convenience store, but… He probably couldn’t bring food into the hospital. The mall in Shibuya had so many trinkets and souvenirs, he almost got too overwhelmed and just went home. But he backed off into a less busy corner to try to calm his nerves down to a manageable level and realized he was right across from the flower shop. _Of course,_ he groaned to himself. _You’re supposed to bring flowers to the hospital!_

Nervously, he touched the petals of one of the bouquets on display. He didn’t know what kind of flowers Shiho liked. Her favorite color was pink, he knew that much, but didn’t pink flowers usually have some sort of romantic intentions attached? That wasn’t what he wanted at all. Maybe back then, but… Things were different now. If she hadn’t seen him that way before, she definitely didn’t now. He was lost in thought until the lone employee called out to him.

“Hi!” Her tone and expression were both genuinely cheerful, but not enough to ease his anxieties. “Looking for something specific?”

“Uh,” He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, then realized he was still touching the bouquets and retracted his hands. “S-sort of?” 

“Yeah? Want some help?” She came over closer to him and fluffed up the display he _hadn’t_ been touching. 

The biggest part of him wanted to say no and exit the shop as quickly as he could, avoiding any further interrogation from another human being. Gathering intel for the Phantom Thieves had given him a _little_ more confidence when talking to others, but that was when he felt like he was on a mission. Maybe this was a mission too, though? It was for Shiho. That should’ve been enough. He swallowed down his fears and instead put on what he hoped was a normal-looking smile.

“Oh, uh, yeah! Actually. Thanks.” He paused to try and figure out how to word his situation without sounding… weird. “So, a classmate of mine was in an accident.” _Close enough._ “And she’s in the hospital now. I want to take her some flowers. Maybe something that’ll show I’m wishing her well on her recovery? I dunno how this sort of thing works… I just thought it’d be nice.”

The employee actually looked taken aback for a moment. Had he said the wrong thing? 

“You’re such a thoughtful classmate.” No, she only seemed touched, not put off by his words. “I’m sure she’d love to get some flowers! How about some of these…” She began picking up flowers out of one of the tubs around the shop. “And maybe these? Hm…”

Mishima didn’t offer much commentary, just let her do her job. She knew best, right? He definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Just as she seemed to be finished, he spoke up again.

“Excuse me. Sorry.” He stepped over closer to the counter. “Are there any flowers for… Thankfulness? Or, um, apologies, maybe?”

“Oh,” She stood up from where she’d been rearranging a tub. “Are you two not on good terms?”

“It’s… it’s complicated. I just want to wish her well. I owe her a lot.” He looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling completely exposed. When had buying flowers become such a personal experience?

“I see…” The clerk looked thoughtful, then reached over and picked up a few white flowers. “These symbolize gratitude, or sometimes bravery. You can give them to someone you admire, or someone you want to wish strength to. Does that sound right?” She walked behind the counter, but paused to check with him before she started wrapping the bouquet. 

“Yeah. Thanks…” He gave her a small smile, and waited for her to put everything together. He picked out a pink ribbon — the same color Shiho always wore in her hair — and thanked the clerk again. She gave him a big smile and wished him good luck. 

He knew she couldn’t know the situation from those small details, but part of him wondered if she felt some sympathy for him anyway. Sympathy wasn’t what he deserved, but he’d carry it with him and give it to Shiho instead. 

By the time he got to the hospital, he’d worked himself up so much he couldn’t get his palms to stop sweating. Dropping the bouquet was seeming like a real possibility, so he clutched it to his chest as tightly as he could without crushing the petals. It really was pretty. He stared at it, hoping it would calm his nerves while he waited at the crosswalk across from the building. Instead, he just zoned out and got shoved by someone pushing past him when the light turned. He took a deep breath and willed himself forward, spurred on only by the shame he knew he'd feel if he gave up now. It would be a waste of a beautiful arrangement too. There was no one else in his life he could give it to and pretend it was intended for them. This was a gift only for Shiho.

He asked for her room at reception. On the elevator up to the fifth floor, he realized he had no idea what he was going to say, and he started panicking all over again. What did you say to someone whose life could have been a whole lot less tragic if you’d just manned up and stepped in to protect her? He didn’t know. _I’m sorry_ wasn’t going to cut it, and he knew it. He was such an idiot for coming here. He thought to prepare _flowers,_ but not an apology? If he’d been alone in the elevator, he would have groaned out loud in frustration, but he kept quiet and stared down at his shoes until the doors opened and he had no choice but to step off. 

He almost got to her door. Almost. But then someone came out of it, shutting it behind her. Someone in a Shujin uniform. That someone locked eyes with him instantly.

“Mishima-kun?” Takamaki seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. Only, he shouldn’t have been. She was Shiho’s best friend. Of course she’d be here.

“Uh, h-hi… Takamaki-san.” If he hadn’t felt totally out of place before, he did now, staring down his classmate in a hospital hallway with a big bundle of flowers held against his chest.

She walked closer to him, slowly, like she was afraid he’d bolt. He sort of wanted to. 

“Are you here to see someone?” She immediately looked like she knew she’d said something stupid and shut her eyes for a brief second. “ _Ugh,_ sorry. Of course you are. Obviously you’re not a _patient_ here.”

“Yeah, uh… You’re not either.” Apparently, they were both saying stupid things now.

“Yeah.” She forced a smile. It looked painful. He didn’t blame her. Talking to him sucked for everyone involved. “I was visiting Shiho.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the ground. “How’s… how’s she doing?”

“She’s doing pretty good. Stuff is hard, but she’s a fighter!” Takamaki grinned now, looking more genuinely happy than awkward. Mishima glanced at the door she’d come out of, then back down. “Are you…” He did it again and her eyes followed his this time. She lowered her voice. “Mishima-kun, are you here to see Shiho?” 

She sounded sad. She must know how much Shiho hated him. She must think he was stupid for trying to do this. He didn’t say anything. Takamaki just stared at him.

“She just fell asleep while I was talking to her.” Takamaki’s voice was gentle and quiet now, almost reassuring. “Her physical therapy really wears her out, so sometimes she’s fine, and then it’s just naptime. Out like a light. She probably won’t be up for a few hours, but… You can leave the flowers in there for her if you want to. Or I can wake her up…?”

“No!” He almost shouted. “N-no. It’s… It’s fine. I, uh, don’t wake her up for me.” 

“Oh… Are you sure?” Takamaki looked back towards the door. “I’m sure she’d wanna wake up and see you…”

“No, um, she should rest. It’s okay.” He looked down at the flowers in his arms and suddenly realized he wasn’t sure what to do with them. All at once, he pushed them into Takamaki’s arms instead. She made an odd sound, but held onto them. “Here! You should just tell her these are from you. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at school. It was nice to see you, Takamaki-san!” He hurried off as quickly as he could, despite Takamaki’s confused protesting.

Luckily, the elevator came near-instantly, and Takamaki didn’t follow him. His heart was pounding in his ears and there was a lump in his throat threatening to overpower him. He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes once in the elevator, alone this time. He was so stupid. Shiho wouldn’t have wanted to see him. What difference did he think he was making showing his face here? He’d be surprised if Shiho didn’t yell in his face what a coward he was, how he ruined her life, how she might never play volleyball again because of him. She was going to be a starter, she was going to go to college on a volleyball scholarship. Mishima wasn’t even that _good_ at volleyball, but _he_ was the one left with functional legs, and what good was it doing him?

His functional legs got him home, and then to school the next day, and the next. They carried him carefully away from Takamaki every chance he got, so that she couldn’t ask him any weird questions about his weird behavior. By the end of the week, he’d convinced himself that Shiho didn’t need his apologies. If she never saw his face again, she’d probably be happier for it. 

But a small part of him was selfish. He missed the agonizing riddles Shiho used to tell the team over lunch, her loud laughs at everyone else’s frustration, the way she always gave Mishima a long look that said _I understand you_ when he showed up to practice the next day with newly darkened bruises dotting his arms. She was the closest thing he had to someone he could trust. What if Shiho felt the same about him? It was true that she had Takamaki, but if her reaction was anything to go by, it seemed like Takamaki hadn’t fully known the extent of what Shiho was going through. Mishima had. He wouldn’t have called them friends, he never would have gone that far. But maybe they were more like confidants. That had to mean something. _He_ had to mean something. And he still owed her an apology, even if she didn’t want it, even if it was selfish. 

He found himself at the hospital again, sans flowers this time, staring up at the building, trying to figure out if he could see her window from the street. He had no way of knowing which was which, but the idea of her looking down and seeing him like a dot down on the sidewalk filled him with worsened anxiety, and he headed inside just in case.

This time, he didn’t even make it to Shiho’s door before something went wrong. Because this time, Ann Takamaki was sitting _outside_ the door, not doing anything in particular. She looked like she was waiting for something. She couldn’t have been waiting for him. He hadn’t told anyone he was ever coming back. He started to back away and towards the elevator again, but she looked up and caught his eye before he could, so he just stood there, rooted in place. 

She grinned at him and raised a hand in greeting. “Hi, Mishima-kun!”

He awkwardly raised a hand in return, but just stood there, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Takamaki seemed to realize he wasn’t going to move over to her, so she stood and came to him instead. 

“Are you here to see Shiho again?” Takamaki smoothed out her skirt and brushed a stray hair off her jacket. 

“Uh, yeah. Hopefully.” He was trying to smile, but he probably just looked nervous.

“Me too.” She paused. “She had to reschedule some stuff today because something came up with her doctor or something, so I didn’t know she wasn’t going to be in her room. I was waiting for her to come back, but… It’s been a while and I don’t know how long she’s supposed to be gone…”

Mishima felt his chest cave in a little. “Oh.”

“Sorry.” Ann gave him a pitying half-smile. “I guess your timing’s just a little off, huh? She’s usually here this time though! Today’s just weird.”

Both of them stood there awkwardly, both apparently unsure of what they were supposed to be saying or doing. Mishima sort of hoped Shiho would just show up, but he knew he’d be in even worse of a situation if she rounded the corner and saw him standing there making a fool of himself.

“Um,” He shuffled his feet, one of his shoes squeaking. He winced. “Well, I guess I’ll go home then. Since she’s not here. It was, uh, nice to see you again, Takamaki-san.” 

“Yeah. You too, Mishima-kun.” She sounded sort of sad. As he turned and started to walk away, she spoke up again. “Wait!”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder back at her.

“Uh, sorry!” She flinched at her own volume. “Hey, since we both came out here for no reason, why don’t we go get something to eat together? I know a quiet cafe down the street.” 

Quiet? Was she trying to look out for him? Did she and her friends still see him as the shy, socially-inept classmate who flinched at every noise and let others walk all over him? Well, maybe some of that was still true, but he didn’t need someone to pity him for it. He frowned down at the floor and tried to find an excuse to turn her down.

She must have noticed the way his expression changed, because she sounded disappointed when she spoke again. "I mean, unless you're busy or something. I just thought it'd be fun. I know you talk to Ren sometimes about the Phansite, but even though we went to middle school together and we're in the same class now, I don't feel like I really know you. And maybe I should. Cuz you're…" She lowered her voice. "Doing all the PR stuff." 

Now he just felt bad. He always felt like no one paid him any attention, and now here was someone admitting that she knew she hadn't gotten as close to him as she should have and offering to try and fix that, and he was hung up on whether she was trying to pity him by picking a quiet environment. If he wanted friends, he knew he couldn't be choosy about it. And this was Takamaki, who he knew to be kind and compassionate. She was visiting a friend in the hospital, after all. This wasn't likely to be some underhanded scheme. 

"Um, sure." He looked up at her now with a small smile. "That sounds fun." 

She seemed delighted by that, and he was quickly whisked away to the promised quiet cafe down the street. There was a good number of people inside, but the room was spacious enough that it didn't feel packed. Most of the patrons were young adults with books, or papers, or sitting in small groups with laptops. Takamaki plopped down into a plush-looking chair at a small table in a corner and Mishima sat across from her, still taking in his surroundings. 

"This place is great." She thumbed at a coffee menu in front of her. "The first time I came in here, I'd been bawling my eyes out at the hospital and the waitress took one look at me and brought me a free tea… I must've looked like a huge mess, but she didn't make a big deal out of it. She said they get a lot of people like that cuz it's so close…" 

Mishima pretended to focus on a menu, anything to keep his eyes off the girl in front of him. He'd gotten a lot better about having people divulge incredibly intimate details to him under the promise of having the Phantom Thieves solve their problems, but this wasn't exactly the same. It was too personal. The thought of Takamaki actually going through the steps to be there for Shiho even if it meant breaking down herself, while he sat at home and felt sorry for himself wasn't making him feel like he even deserved to be here. She was such a good friend. He couldn't even complete step one.

"Mishima-kun…?" Takamaki gently got his attention.

He looked up, finally. "Yeah, hi, sorry." 

"You look really sad… I'm sorry you couldn't see Shiho today." 

"Oh, it's… it's fine. I don't really think she'd want to see me, anyways. But she's probably sad she missed you." He went back to studying the coffees.

"No way. She sees me all the time. I'm pretty sure she's sick of me by now." Takamaki laughed to herself. "But she was _super_ excited when I told her you came by. She was like _Ann! You should've woke me up! I can nap any time!_ But how was I supposed to know that?!" She was looking at Mishima like he might know the answer, but he was still caught up on her earlier statement.

She was excited? To see him? Nobody was ever excited to see him. It was more like a vague sense of disappointment. 

"Oh," was all he managed to get out.

"And she _loved_ the flowers. Even if she was a jerk to me about it. She was like _Ann, you would never bring me flowers! I know these aren't from you!_ And she kept laughing at me. She's so harsh sometimes." Despite that, Takamaki sighed and smiled, looking out the window next to them. "You really made her day, you know? She's a trooper, but even her optimism doesn't exactly give her a lot to work with right now." 

Mishima couldn't seem to decide if he felt embarrassed or just overwhelmed by emotion. Really, he just felt like crying. He swallowed hard and did his best to avoid that. 

"She probably just wants a change of pace. It could've been anyone visiting, as long as it's different. Right?" He barely glanced up, then back down.

"You think so?" Takamaki sounded like she was thinking. "I'm not buying it. She's actually told me a few times that she would've just gotten angry if her classmates showed up and started acting like they cared all of a sudden. She said they never cared about what she was going through then. Nobody ever asked her if she was okay… If they showed up now, I think she'd give them a piece of her mind."

Instantly, Mishima was reminded of all the times he'd stopped Shiho in the empty halls after practice to check in with her, all the times he'd helped her reapply a bandage on her arm that she couldn't do one-handed, all the times she'd done similar for him. No one else asked after her? No one else cared about the bruised cheekbones and scraped knees? He knew everyone felt that way about him, but he always assumed Shiho was on another level. He'd never known he was the only one — well, besides Takamaki. 

He rubbed at his eye with a fist and willed himself to please not break down crying in public in front of a girl. 

"Hey," Takamaki's voice was so soft that it made him feel worse. "Are you okay?" 

"Y-yeah." He sniffled. "Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry. It's hard dealing with this." She fished a pack of tissues out of her bag and handed them over. "Here, my secret stash." 

He barely smiled at that and took one to dry his eyes. "Thanks. You come prepared."

"Oh, yeah. Lots of crying." But she was all kind smiles now. "I cry way more than she does, and then she calls me a crybaby. But she still holds my hand and tells me it’s gonna be okay, that she’s gonna be okay…” 

“I-is she…?” Mishima crumpled the tissue in a loose fist in his lap. The question that had burned in his chest for months now finally surfaced, and he felt just as guilty as he thought he would for asking. If he wanted to know that, he could’ve visited any time and seen for himself.

“Yeah!” Takamaki wasn’t phased, until she was and her expression sank. “Mishima, were you worried she was doing badly? Is that why you’re so upset?”

Mishima didn’t answer, just sunk down in his seat a little more and sniffled again. 

“She’s doing _super_ good. She can even walk short distances without support now! And her hands have gotten so much better she can paint and crochet. I just wish she’d stop making me so many _scarves…_ ” She tried to catch his eye and smiled at him. “Shiho would never let this stop her. She’s the strongest girl I’ve ever met.”

Mishima couldn’t return her smile. Shiho recovering was a relief, but if it wasn’t for his own cowardice, she wouldn’t be in this position. There would be nothing for her to recover _from._ She’d be on her way to a volleyball scholarship, playing in matches and getting scouted by professional teams. If he’d just _saved_ her, taken the beatings for her, held things off until the Phantom Thieves finished with Kamoshida, she wouldn’t have jumped. 

“Mishima…” Takamaki’s concerned voice pulled him out of his trance. “What’s wrong?”

He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes again, feeling totally pathetic. If she didn’t already think he was a loser, she would now.

“She must hate me.” He managed half of a bitter laugh, eyes still down on the table. “If I’d just done something, she…”

“No.” Takamaki was suddenly stern, sitting up straighter. “What happened was _not_ your fault. It was that _bastard_ Kamoshida’s. He preyed on her, and there was nothing any of us could’ve done, because _no one_ was looking out for us. Shiho knows that too.” She paused, and her voice softened again. “She would never blame you, Mishima. How could it ever be your fault? You were a victim too.”

“I should’ve done something. _Anything._ Instead of just watching it all happen and patching her up afterwards…” He was crying again, and the tissue wasn’t doing much good. “She deserved better than that, and now she’s... And I couldn’t even come see her. I was too _scared._ I’m such a coward…”

Takamaki pushed the pack of tissues across the table to him and he took another. She looked down at her lap like she was trying to give him some form of privacy. 

“I know how you feel though…” She lowered her voice. “I felt the same way. But she got so _mad_ at me for saying that. She kept telling me I didn’t do anything wrong, and I kept telling her the problem is that I didn’t do _anything._ You know what she told me?” She paused to wait for Mishima to look at her. “She said you should never apologize for what other people do to you. Kamoshida backed us all into a corner. It’s _his_ fault we were scared and helpless, and it never should’ve been like that.”

Mishima actually sobbed, though it was quiet. He doubled over and kept his face covered, sniffling into them weakly. He never talked to anyone about this. He wasn’t used to such deep emotional wounds being ripped open again, raw and exposed. He never got the closure of knowing someone else felt the same way he did, even a little. Shiho was gone, locked away in a hospital, and the rest of the volleyball team had always avoided him. That left Takamaki, who he only saw in passing, who only gave him little smiles when they caught each other’s lines of sight between classes or at lunch. Logically, he knew she had to be hurting too, but he’d always thought it was a different hurt than his. 

He managed a broken up apology, still keeping his head lowered. Making a scene in public was never something he enjoyed, and he was scared to know how many people were seeing him have this cathartic breakdown in front of a pretty girl. It probably looked like she was rejecting him or something.

“You don’t really need to apologize for this either.” She shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs. “Hey, I’m gonna get a coffee. Do you want one? It’s really good here. It usually makes me feel a little better.” She sounded like she was trying hard to lighten the mood, or at least distract him.

He nodded, and she got up and went to the counter to order. That gave him some time to compose himself as much as he could. 

When she came back with their drinks, he was sitting up, if a bit hunched over the table. But his eyes were dry, and he wasn’t struggling to breathe normally. She set down his drink, and he half-smiled at her. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the coffee closer to himself. It smelled amazing.

“No problem! Totally on me today, since I dragged you out here and then made you cry.” She stirred some sugar into her coffee, then took a sip and completely perked up, apparently delighted with it. 

“You just sort of… hit a tender spot, I guess. It’s embarrassing.” He added some cream into his own coffee and watched it swirl around. “Shiho is so… strong. And I didn’t want to be this thing that made her life even harder. I didn’t want to show up while she’s just trying to recover and remind her of… everything. She deserves better than that.”

“You know…” Takamaki frowned. “Actually, maybe I shouldn’t say this…” She took another sip of her coffee and looked thoughtful. “I guess it’s not that big of a deal… Just don’t tell her I told you.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to talk to her at all at this rate.

“She talks about you a lot. I mean, not _a lot_ a lot, but she’s always talked about you. She’d tell me funny stuff you said at practice, or be really happy you noticed her haircut or something when none of the other boys at school did. And then more recently, she’s just… She was really worried about you. She kept asking me to make sure you were okay, but she said you don’t like being crowded in or pressured, so I didn’t want to just come up to you at school like _Hey, Mishima-kun! I know we’re total strangers, but how’s your mental health these days?_ So, I just… didn’t. So, maybe I should apologize for that. I’m sorry.”

Mishima stared at her now, blinking a few times to try and clear his head. Shiho was worried about him? That couldn’t be true. What had he ever done to make her worry? She was the one in a hospital bed; she had no reason to be worried about anyone else. She should have been focusing her thoughts on herself and her recovery, not someone like him. But Shiho was always like that — kind, sympathetic, looking out for others first even if it meant she suffered herself. It was one thing he admired about her. 

He looked back down at his lap, frowning. "She doesn't need to worry about me." 

"She will anyway, unless you go tell her that yourself." Takamaki spoke plainly, like it was fact. It sort of was. 

He knew he had to go try and make things right, he just wasn't sure how. 

* * *

Takamaki’s words were on a loop in his head for days. If he wanted Shiho to know how he felt — that he was sorry, that she didn’t need to worry about him, that he knew he should’ve visited sooner — then he had to go tell her himself. There was no other way. But what Takamaki said about Shiho becoming angry if her classmates visited stuck with him too, in a way that made him fear he would be a target for her wrath as well. Just like them, he hadn’t been there for her in the ways he should’ve been. Sure, he’d spent quiet moments with her huddled in a corner of the boy’s locker room while she cried and iced her wounds, he’d walked her to the station after practice more times than he could count if she looked particularly bad, he’d asked after her when he could, but… He also hadn’t shown his face since things had quite literally taken a dive for her. What kind of friend was he, then? If he only showed up now, once he’d gotten confirmation that things were better and he wouldn’t have to see her unconscious or fighting for her life, he was no better than any of them.

But Takamaki kept giving him encouraging smiles when she saw him at school that he knew translated roughly to _You can do it!,_ and he started to think that even if he couldn’t, he _had_ to. If Shiho needed to get mad at him, she deserved to. And he deserved to have to sit and take whatever she gave him. 

So he showed up at the hospital for the third time, and this time he made it all the way to Shiho’s door. His heart was in his throat and his hands were shaking, but he took a deep breath and knocked on the door three times. 

“Come in!” 

He heard Shiho’s voice for the first time in months, and his chest seized as he realized he’d almost forgotten what it sounded like. If he stood there too long, things would be even weirder, so he forced himself forward and through the doorway. 

And there she was, sitting up on her bed, crochet hooks in hand and yarn spilling all over the place. Their eyes met, hers wide in surprise, and she held his gaze in the mere seconds it took for her expression to break into the brightest smile he thought he’d ever seen on her.

“Yuuki!” She looked like she wanted to jump up out of the bed, but she settled for tossing down her crochet hooks to clap her hands together and wiggle in place. The dread he’d been feeling dissipated and was replaced with overwhelming relief as he realized she didn’t sound angry at all. She sounded really, _really_ happy to see him. “Yuuki! You came back!”

“H-hi… Shiho.” He couldn’t help but return her smile with a small one of his own, but he dropped his gaze to the floor as he felt his cheeks heat up. 

“Hi!” She sounded like she could barely contain herself. In all the time he spent obsessing over this moment, he’d never anticipated this level of excitement. Not for someone like him. Shiho frantically moved a pile of sketchbooks and manga off the chair by her bed. “Come here! Sit!”

He realized he was still awkwardly standing in the doorway, so he did as he was instructed and took the designated seat. On a bedside table next to the chair was the bouquet he’d hoisted off onto Takamaki on his first attempted visit. The flowers still looked just as beautiful as they had when he’d bought them. He’d expected them to be wilted by now. 

She noticed him looking at them. “They’re so pretty. Thank you…” She followed his gaze, smile softening now into the one he was used to. “I was so happy when Ann brought them to me… I’m sorry I wasn’t awake to get them from you in person…” 

“Please don’t apologize to me!” He sounded more aggressive than he’d ever meant to and he mumbled an apology of his own for it. “I-I just mean… Shiho... I’m so sorry.”

“What? It’s not your fault I took a nap—”

“No.” He sighed. “For… for everything. For not coming to see you, to make sure you were okay. For not protecting you when you needed someone to—”

“Stop, Yuuki.” Her voice was much more tense now and he braced for the worst. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She caught his gaze and held it. “Okay? Nothing.”

“But—”

“Nothing.” She reached over, took his hand in hers, and held it gently. “Yeah, I wanted you to visit me, but I knew you were suffering too… How you dealt with that was up to you, and I couldn’t expect to be your first priority when you were just trying to heal your own wounds.” 

“But, Shiho—”

“No.”

“I—”

“Nope!”

“Can I—”

“You’re so stubborn.” She laughed, and it was like music to his ears. “You can’t apologize to me unless it’s for telling Ann to pretend the flowers were from her. She’s a terrible actor. I never would have bought it.”

“Okay.” Despite everything, he found himself smiling, looking down at their hands still clasped together. “I’m sorry for that, then. I panicked.” 

“I figured.” She giggled again and squeezed his hand. “I missed you, Yuuki. I’m glad I can still make you smile.”

They sat in oddly comfortable silence for a while. All the worst case scenarios he’d played out in his head dissipated all at once, but so did his plans. He’d come here to apologize more than anything, and now Shiho wasn’t even going to let him do that. If it wasn’t what she wanted, he shouldn’t push it. He wanted to apologize for her sake, after all. But seeing her grinning, laughing, so happily calling out his name made him think he had the wrong idea this whole time. If she resented him, she would tell him. She was always honest. She never deceived others, especially those close to her. 

Were they close? Even now? He looked at Shiho’s hand on top of his, light scars dotting her knuckles, and felt tears welling up in his eyes. How could she still want to touch him like this, after he’d abandoned her here? If they were really friends, if he really cared for her, he would’ve been here. Even if she thought it was okay, that he was focusing on his own health, he didn’t think it was. He pulled his hand away from hers and back to his lap abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Shiho sounded hurt and confused. That was the tone he was used to hearing from her, back when everything was so much worse. Now it really was his fault. 

“S-Shiho, even if you won’t let me apologize, I…” He clasped his hands to keep them from shaking. “I want to tell you how I feel. Is that selfish? I shouldn’t burden you with more than you’re already dealing with, but I—”

“Tell me.” She smoothed out the wrinkles in the sheets with the hand that had been holding his. “I want to know what’s been on your mind. I’ve only been able to guess, and sometimes I… Sometimes I think the worst.” She smiled sadly, not looking directly at him. 

“I’m sor—” He cut himself off, knowing she would if he didn’t. “I… Feel like I should have done more for you. I should have tried harder to keep you safe. If I could’ve even just bought some time until the Phantom Thieves changed Kamoshida’s heart, maybe it would’ve been enough to keep you from… from…” He took a deep breath. “And then I didn’t even have the guts to come see you. I was so scared you’d just yell at me, and I’d deserve it if you did, but I didn’t want to face it. I was just a selfish coward. A terrible friend. You needed support more than ever, and I just disappeared and felt sorry for myself instead.” His voice broke and he quickly rubbed his eyes before too many tears could spill onto his cheeks. “You deserve better than this!”

She was quiet for what felt like too long, while he sniffled and felt like an idiot for crying in front of _two_ girls now in one week. Her eyes were down on the piles of yarn in front of her, probably not wanting to see what an embarrassment he was making of himself. 

“Yuuki…” She finally looked up at him. She looked sad, and he hated it and had to look away. “You’re a good friend.”

“No, I’m not, I—”

“You were the only person I could confide in for a long time. I didn’t want Ann to worry too much, but you were there, and you saw what was going on, so… I could trust you to understand me.” She sniffled, just a little. “You always asked me if I was okay, and I knew you really cared about what the answer was. You’d let me sit in the boy’s locker room with you while the girls were still changing and cry until I felt like I could get home, and then you’d walk me to the station so no one bothered me. You checked my bandages for me and gave me painkillers. You always smiled at me from the bleachers during practice and made me feel like I could work even harder.” Her voice broke, but then she laughed. “You let me tell you riddles and you always tried so hard to solve them!” 

He looked up at her again and found that she was really crying now, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeves and taking shaky breaths. But it didn’t seem like a sad cry. She seemed relieved to be saying all of this. 

“Yuuki, you’re such a _good friend._ If I hadn’t had you, I don’t know if I’d still be here. You saved my life… I never could’ve asked more from you. I got scared that maybe I took too much from you, maybe you resented me for doing what I did and leaving you all alone… Maybe we were both confused.”

He was crying even harder now, and hunched over to hide his face in his hands, trying to regain some illusion of composure. At least he was able to keep mostly quiet, but the downside was that he couldn’t manage to speak much either. He choked out an apology out of habit while trying in vain to dry his eyes. 

“Still not allowed.” Despite her tears, Shiho sounded like she was trying to be more upbeat. “Now I’m going to have you _and_ Ann just coming in and crying by my bed, huh?” 

“Yeah. I guess so.” He tried his best to smile. She wanted him to come back, even if he spent his time there crying. The thought comforted him more than he could express. 

“That’s okay.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. It had grown out a lot since he’d last seen her. “Things are gonna be okay. We understand each other’s feelings now…” She held her hand out and motioned for him to give her his. He placed his palm on hers and she gripped his hand tightly. “Right?”

“R-right.” He felt her squeeze his hand before loosening her grip and lowering them both to the bed. “Hey, I… I never felt like that… Like you were leaving me alone, when you…”

“And I never felt like you were leaving me alone when you needed to deal with your feelings how you dealt with them.” She rubbed her thumb over his hand in a small arc and his heart did something strange in his chest.

“Oh.” He stared down at their hands. _Oh._

“We both had it wrong, but… sort of just in opposite ways. I missed you, but you needed what you needed. If you want to, though… I want to keep being friends. I want you to visit me sometimes…” She lowered her gaze to the same spot he was staring. “But I understand if you just wanted closure so you could move on, and—”

“No.” He squeezed her hand this time. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I never thought I could call you my friend before. I didn’t think you really saw me that way. Nobody really… I mean, I… I missed you too.”

“You’re my closest friend after Ann… Don’t sell yourself short so much.” She smiled softly at him, the smile that pulled her eyes into it too. “You’re the only other person from school I’d even let in here. If anyone else showed up to pretend they knew me, I’d send them away. I don’t want their pity… But it’s different with you.”

“Takamaki-san said that too.” He picked at a string of yarn hanging off the bed, then realized he was probably ruining it and stopped.

“What? That she’s my best friend? She’s always bragging about me, it’s so embarrassing… She’s like a cheer mom…”

He finally laughed for the first time since coming in. She looked delighted by that. “No, no. About your classmates. She said you’d give them a piece of your mind, or something. But, I mean… She is. Like a cheer mom. Sometimes.”

It was Shiho’s turn to laugh now. “She’s like _This is my best friend Shiho! Did you know she’s really good at volleyball?_ ” Her Takamaki impersonation was actually spot-on. “Here’s the secret:” She lowered her voice to a near-whisper. “Ann doesn’t know anything about volleyball.”

Mishima covered his mouth with his spare hand to control his laughter. He felt tears stinging at his eyes in an entirely different way this time. For a while, neither of them could stop erupting into fits of giggles as soon as the other stopped. It was the best Mishima had felt in… He wasn’t sure how long. The Phansite was his only real source of positive emotions these days, and that was more of a pride thing. This was… real happiness, he thought, simple joy from laughing with a friend. 

They finally managed to calm down when a nurse came by to check some vitals, and Mishima sat quietly and waited for the interaction to end. 

When she left, Shiho took a deep breath and steadied her eyes on his face. “Tell me how you’ve been.”

So he did. He told her all about the Phansite, about how he was helping people just like them. He told her about all the time he spent in Akihabara and Shinjuku just talking to people and learning as much as he could. She told him about how she was learning how to paint again, and showed him some of her sketchbooks full of drawings of scenery and even some doodles of Takamaki. 

He found the relief he’d been seeking for so long in her presence. All fear of anger and resentment was replaced by a deeper comfort than he’d known in a very long time. It was like they’d never stopped being close, and now they were even closer than before. Now there was no overwhelming sense of pain overshadowing their relationship. They could just be.

Over the next few weeks, she tried to teach him to crochet, but he was miserable at it, even with her hands gently guiding his through the motions. Sometimes, he’d just give up and grasp her hands instead, making her giggle in response. He’d sit on the bed next to her on days when she was struggling the most, and let her lean into his side just like she used to, now with the confidence to put one arm around her securely so she felt safe. 

They shared their feelings now, no longer second-guessing anything. Still, he was surprised when she pressed her face into his shoulder and mumbled “I love you, Yuuki.” 

“What…?” He tried to pass it off like he just hadn’t heard her. Her voice was muffled against his shirt, and he could pretend he was more focused on the videos they were watching on his phone. If she wanted to retract it, she could. He expected her to just brush it off.

But Shiho wasn’t a coward. She sat up straighter, eyes now full of fiery determination, and looked right at his face. “I love you.”

“I— U-uh…” He felt his face flush and he looked away, eyes darting to his phone, the bed, the fresh flowers he’d just brought in, anywhere else. “What?”

Shiho laughed, took his phone from him to pause the video, then reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. She kissed him, soft and slow, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He kissed her back, despite suddenly realizing that he had no idea how to do that. He could only hope it was good enough. From her expression when they parted, it must have been. Her lids were low, and she gave him a small, content smile before burying her face in his chest. She was so, so cute. 

"Was that okay?" She was muffled again, but sounded more nervous than he was used to her sounding. She was usually so bold. 

"Y-yeah. I mean, I… I liked it. I've never… done that before." Hesitantly, he brushed his fingers over her hair. He'd never done that before either, but he always saw it on TV. It was what you were supposed to do when a girl needed comfort, right? 

"Oh!" She sounded like she was just realizing this. "Me neither." She tilted her head up and looked at him with her big, brown eyes, and he couldn't help but smile. "Your face is so red."

"Ah!" He covered his face with his hands dramatically and made her laugh. "You're embarrassing me, Suzui-san…" 

"Oh, Mishima-kun, it's okay!" She threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his forehead too forcefully. "Face your feelings! This is a no judgment zone!" 

He almost fell out of the bed from a combination of laughter and the girl putting all her weight on him. Just a month ago, someone touching him, and even teasing him, with this much familiarity would have felt like pure terror, but this was Shiho. He trusted her. 

And, he realized, he loved her.

"Okay, okay!" He threw his weight against her in return, not enough to hurt. She settled back down next to him and kept her eyes on his face, still grinning. He took a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth, then returned her smile and spoke softly. “I love you too, Shiho.” 

“Really…?” Her expression settled into something more self-conscious and she fiddled with the case on Mishima’s phone in her hand, thumbing over a rough spot where he’d dropped it. “You don’t need to just say that…”

“No, no! Shiho, really…” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him until her head was on his chest. She made a small surprised sound, but then relaxed. “I really do.”

She tilted her face up and just stared at him for a second, then hid again. 

“Now your face is red,” he teased.

“Quiet!” She weakly smacked at his arm, but didn’t sound upset. “I’m happy.”

“Oh.” He sighed and ran his fingers across her hair again like he’d done before. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Despite that, she sounded a little sad. “Being with you has always made me feel more… at peace. Even when things were really bad. You’d walk me to the station and for a few minutes, everything felt okay. I wasn’t as scared. Before you started visiting me here, I sort of felt like my life was stalled. I was doing physical therapy and seeing a counselor, but I didn’t have friends besides Ann… I wasn’t sure what I’d do about school when I got out of here… Everything was just sort of… happening around me, and every day I’d go through my routine and wonder how I’d ever adjust to a normal life again… if I’d ever _have_ a normal life.”

She pulled away to sit up, so he let go of her, but she took his hand and held it, eyes down. 

“But you brought me flowers,” she continued. “And I felt that calm feeling again. Like you were still looking out for me, even if I felt like I let you down—”

“You didn’t…” He squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back. “I know that now! But… That’s how I felt then. And then I saw you and I…” Her voice cracked, and she rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “It was like something clicked back into place for me. I missed you so much, _really_ missed you, like you were a piece missing from my life, and I’m so _happy_ you’re here now. I’m happy we’re friends. And I’m happy if you love me.”

He took a moment to process all of that, and realized it all aligned near-perfectly with what he’d been feeling himself. Seeing Shiho again, holding her hand in his, felt like things had become realigned. Ever since he’d started visiting her, his life felt more fulfilling. Seeing her was the highlight of his days, and when she smiled at him, everything felt okay, just for a minute. On his first visit, she’d told him he’d helped her keep going. He wondered if she knew the same was true about her. To him, she was sunshine — warm, radiant, a bright light, a reminder that another day would come. 

* * *

Shiho was being discharged from the hospital. She could walk normally now, as long as she didn’t strain herself too badly, and all of her physical injuries had healed up as well as they ever would. She still had a daily regimen of physical therapy, and would for a long time, but that was a small price to pay for going home to her own bed and being able to start her life up again. 

Mishima had something new to start up too. For the first time in his life, he had a girlfriend, and he wasn’t sure exactly what that entailed, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to start things off with a little surprise. He made his way to the flower shop in Shibuya again and was startled by the sales clerk calling out to him almost immediately.

“Hey!” She spoke with familiarity that he hadn’t been expecting. “How’s your friend?”

“Oh,” He blinked slowly at her. He hadn’t really been prepared to be remembered like this, even if he’d been here a few times now. He was usually so easy to forget. The other employee he’d run into had barely spoken to him. “She’s, uh, good. She’s actually being discharged today from the hospital, so… Here I am.”

“How exciting!” She clasped her hands together. “So what are you thinking for today? Something congratulatory?”

“Actually…” He ran his hand over the tub in front of him, full of bright, vibrant sunflowers. “Maybe just some of these?”

“Sunflowers… For respect and radiant love…” She sounded like she was mostly talking to herself. “She must be special to you.”

“Yeah,” He smiled down at his feet. “She is.”

He arrived at Shiho’s home with a bouquet of sunflowers tucked under one arm, all wrapped up and tied with a pink ribbon. He didn’t want to ring the bell and disturb her parents, so he texted her when he was outside and then stood and waited, flowers behind his back. He was all nerves. He’d never done anything like this before, and was suddenly acutely aware of just how badly this could all go. What if she wasn’t home? What if she was busy? What if she had better things to do than spend time with him now that her life had opened up and she could do whatever she wanted?

But she opened the front door and stepped outside, wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, hair pulled back in a ponytail, and he was reminded that this was Shiho — the most beautiful, kind girl in his whole world — and that she loved him. As soon as she saw him, her face lit up and she bounced over to him and threw her arms around him.

“Hi, Yuuki!” She squeezed him and he had to come up on his toes to return the hug one-armed, the other still behind his back to conceal his gift. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” She released him and stepped back, bouncing on her feet a little bit.

“I wanted to surprise you.” He couldn’t stop smiling. 

“I’m surprised!” 

“So, uh, I guess you don’t need these, then?” He pulled the bouquet from behind his back and offered it to her. 

She actually gasped out loud and clasped a hand over her mouth. “ _Yuuki!_ ”

She gently took them from him, and for a moment, he thought she was going to cry. Instead, she put one arm around his neck and pulled him in to kiss him. His hands went to her waist, and they held each other like that until she barely pulled away and pressed her forehead against his, eyes on his face. 

“Just cuz you’re not in the hospital anymore doesn’t mean I can’t bring you flowers, right?” He barely nuzzled his face against hers. 

“Well— Yeah, but—” She seemed flustered and pulled back from him, letting him keep his hands on her waist, but holding the bouquet to her chest between them. “But I have to start doing stuff for you too!”

“You do stuff. You gave me so many scarves.” He smirked at her. She rolled her eyes. Between himself and Takamaki, he was sure she was tired of hearing about the scarves. “And you make me happy. And you’re my best friend, so… I think we’re even.” 

“Even or not, let me take you on a date!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the front door. 

“Shiho!” He resisted, but let himself be pulled along. “Aren’t you tired? You just got home. We don’t have to go anywhere today!”

“I’ve been sitting in a hospital room for months!” She pushed the door open and pulled him inside. “I want to see the world! I want to eat sushi! Just let me change clothes first.”

He awkwardly greeted Shiho’s parents, who expressed his same concerns about her going out so soon, and her siblings, who seemed interested in meeting their sister’s fabled boyfriend. He stood around the living room awkwardly with everyone while Shiho went to her room and got changed. Mostly, he expected to be grilled about what exactly his intentions were with her, and how he better not try anything funny — something like that. But instead, her parents gently told him it was nice to finally meet him and that they’d heard all about what a good friend he’d been to their daughter. He almost choked up right then and there, but he managed to thank them, and to tell them that Shiho had been a good friend to him too.

Shiho reappeared quickly and, after explaining to her parents where they were going, the two of them exited the house.

“Okay,” She took his hand. “Let’s go!”


End file.
